Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AN OLD-TIMER, by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AN OLD-TIMER, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Here where the wayward stream
Last Line: I -- breathless -- wait.
Alternate Author Name(s): Johnson Of Boone, Benj. F.
Subject(s): Brooks; Faces; Streams; Creeks


HERE where the wayward stream
Is restful as a dream,
And where the banks o'erlook
A pool from out whose deeps
My pleased face upward peeps,
I cast my hook.

Silence and sunshine blent! --
A Sabbath-like content
Of wood and wave; -- a free-
Hand landscape grandly wrought
Of Summer's brightest thought
And mastery. --

For here form, light and shade,
And color -- all are laid
With skill so rarely fine,
The eye may even see
The ripple tremblingly
Lip at the line.

I mark the dragon-fly
Flit waveringly by
In ever-veering flight,
Till, in a hush profound,
I see him eddy round
The "cork," and -- 'light!

Ho! with the boy's faith then
Brimming my heart again,
And knowing, soon or late,
The "nibble" yet shall roll
Its thrills along the pole,
I -- breathless -- wait.





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